and one is offered by the fact that you are the operating head of the Bynoe Rehabilitation Fund and Mrs. Bynoe was active in its affairs. She may have discovered, or suspected, that you were making free with the Fund’s money, and was going to tell her husband. That can be explored by examination of the Fund’s books. Another suggestion is offered by Mr. Bynoe’s high regard for his wife’s integrity-he prefers the word ‘purity.’ It might be that-”
Bynoe put in. He had his jaw back under control and had found his voice. It had changed, though; it came out harsh and louder than necessary. “You will omit that, Mr. Wolfe.”
“No, sir,” Wolfe declared, “I will not.” He kept his eyes at Frimm. “It might be that you had a try at her integrity and were repulsed. Assuredly you would not have killed her because she indulged you, but what if she refused to? And what if you were so persistent that she resolved to inform her husband? You would have lost your job and all that it meant to you. Of course, an exploration of this possibility may be extremely difficult. If you have peculated there are records that will reveal it, but a rebuffed gallantry may have left no record. There may be no one alive, except you, who knows anything about it. In that case-”
“
All eyes went to Iris Innes. Hers were aimed at Frimm, and he twisted around to meet them.
“You tinhorn Casanova,” she said in a voice that wanted to shake but she wouldn’t let it. “Hinting to me that you had her, and I knew all the time you didn’t. That was what finally gave me sense enough to realize what you were. Remember, Hank? Remember what you told me? I’ve kept it to myself because I was having enough trouble already, but now they can have it.” Her eyes went to Wolfe. “Yes, I know about it. He told me-”
Frimm dived at her. I was too far away, and so was Cramer. Skinner was close enough, but DA’s are for thinking, not acting. It was Joe Herrick who stopped him. Frimm did not get his hands on her, at least he reached her, but Herrick grabbed his arm and whirled him around, and then Cramer and I were both there, and if you can believe it, Millard Bynoe was there with us. I actually think he was going to use a fist at last, after all the years, but Cramer got in between them and I pushed Frimm down onto a chair. Also I had his arms pinned, since another possibility to be explored was that he had another needle.
Bynoe, his tight fists hanging, faced Cramer and spoke. “The needle shot from a camera-he suggested that. He suggested it to me, and I suggested it to you.” He was having trouble with his jaw. “And my wife had decided not to tell me on Good Friday. She was waiting until after Easter. He knew that. Of course he knew. He-” His jaw suddenly clamped and he swung around to Frimm.
“Take it easy, Mr. Bynoe.” Cramer had a hand on his shoulder.
Wolfe growled, “Will somebody get Miss Innes up and onto a chair?”
Chapter 8
BUT REBUFFED GALLANTRY WAS never mentioned at the trial, and Iris Innes wasn’t called. It wasn’t necessary, since they could show that Frimm had made free with the exchequer of the Bynoe Rehabilitation Fund to the tune of more than a quarter of a million, and since Cramer justified Wolfe’s rating of his talents and resources by discovering how and where he had got the needle and the poison.
If you would like to see the plant of flamingo-pink Vanda, ring me and if I’m not too busy I’ll arrange it. It has a spot all to itself on a bench up in the plant rooms. It came in addition to Bynoe’s check in payment of Wolfe’s bill for services rendered. I have no proof that Wolfe dropped any hints to Bynoe about the Vanda, but I wasn’t with him when he visited Bynoe’s greenhouses, and I am entitled to my opinion.
And if you have some little confidential chore you would like to hire Tabby for, I might be able to put you in touch with him, but I warn you not to offer him too much. It goes to his head.
FOURTH OF JULY PICNIC
Chapter 1
FLORA KORBY SWIVELED HER head, with no hat hiding any of her dark brown hair, to face me with her dark brown eyes. She spoke.
“I guess I should have brought my car and led the way.”
“I’m doing fine,” I assured her. “I could shut one eye too.”
“Please don’t,” she begged. “I’m stupefied as it is. May I have your autograph-I mean when we stop?”
Since she was highly presentable I didn’t mind her assuming that I was driving with one hand because my right arm wanted to stretch across her shoulders, though she was wrong. I had left the cradle long ago. But there was no point in explaining to her that Nero Wolfe, who was in the back seat, had a deep distrust of moving vehicles and hated to ride in one unless I drove it, and therefore I was glad to have an excuse to drive with one hand because that would make it more thrilling for him.
Anyway, she might have guessed it. The only outside interest that Wolfe permits to interfere with his
